


Red As The First

by R_Knight



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: (sort of), (with alien tongue), Accidental Voyeurism, Alien Sex, Anal Sex, Curiosity, Deepthroating, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/M, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Friends With Benefits, Grinding, Humor, Kink Discovery, Kink Exploration, Light Bondage, M/M, Other, POV Outsider, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Rimming, Self-Discovery, Sharing a Body, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Voyeurism, character exploration, light humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-08-11 00:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16465001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Knight/pseuds/R_Knight
Summary: He watched, fascinated, as the thick press of the symbiote’s tongue forced Eddie’s mouth open wide, stretching and pushing the inside of his cheeks, and when Eddie tilted his head toward the light just right – Dan could see the flicker of it inside his throat too, an alien simulation of deepthroating, something that Eddie seemed to be both experienced and good at.Dan doesn't get it. And then he does.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So you know how I said I looked into my subconscious and _didn't_ find tentacle porn? Well. I looked again. 
> 
> I listened to Aroused by Tom Vek while writing this - the title is also from the song. Enjoy :)

Dan was a normal guy. It was something he sort of took pride in. He had a normal job, a normal car, a normal (beautiful, smart) girlfriend: he had a normal life. It was his girlfriend’s abnormal ex that threw a wrench in things, and who, for one reason or another, ended up dragging both Anne - and by extension, Dan into the strange reality of his life. At first there was so much going on that Dan didn’t have _time_ to be annoyed, or jealous, or suspicious of Eddie. His journalism was great, he was clearly smart, and funny, and indisputably hot (because, listen. Dan did some stuff in college, he knew what a mouth like that did, for both men and women), but none of that mattered because Dan saw that the guy was clearly sad and lost and a little neurotic the first time they met, none of which were exactly threatening.

The next time he met Eddie, he was wild around the eyes, wearing clothes that smelt like day-old sweat, like chemicals and sickness and also inexplicably _chicken_. All of that promptly overpowered by the smell of lobster and briny water. Dan was too busy worrying for the man’s health to care about what he may or may not mean to Anne these days, and then he was _seriously_ worrying about his health, because he had a parasite, and not just an easily cleared up stomach parasite caused by the old chicken he mentioned eating, but something serious, something Dan had never seen before that was wreaking absolute havoc on his body, destroying everything in its path.

So he was worried, and then he was scared, and now – now he was just confused. Because Eddie seemed like a nice guy outside of it all, and Dan wished he could dig up some sort of possessiveness in him, something he should be feeling in response to his girlfriend kissing her ex and also being put in a good amount of danger by that ex, but ultimately he just – couldn’t. He knew Anne well enough to recognize that she would have probably ended up getting involved regardless, and from what she had told him that last decision to go back and help was all her, and the kiss – well, there was the rub. Anne told him about it in the end, only after she found out that Eddie and the symbiote were still bonded, which stung a little, but she told him it was the symbiote’s idea, and honestly, he believed her.

It was a weird thought, though. Anne seemed to think that the symbiote had just pulled the idea from her memories and applied it to the situation because it was a behavior that required touch, and touching Eddie was its priority, but Dan was a little suspicious of that theory. Not that he thought she was lying to him – he knew that the kiss truly wasn’t her idea, but the reasoning she gave him seemed off, somehow. There had to be something else to it. It had passed between people before, between people and animals and back again, and so it clearly knew how to bond with someone just by touching them. It had wanted to kiss Eddie. Why, Dan didn’t know yet, but he knew that at least.

He couldn’t help wondering about it, trying to figure out its reasoning. _Kept_ wondering about it, kept thinking that there had to be something else to it, debated briefly whether it would be awkward to bring up with Anne before deciding yes, probably. So he stewed in his own curiosity for a good few months, itching to know, right up until out of the blue - he got a call.

“Dan?”

“Speaking,” Dan said, putting his phone on speaker while he changed out of his scrubs.

“Uh, it’s Eddie, Eddie Brock?”

“Oh shoot, sorry, how are you Eddie?”

There was a pause at the other end of the line, a muffling sound like Eddie was putting his hand over the speaker, before he said, “Yeah, yeah I’m good, great thanks. I was wondering if – ah, if maybe I could talk to you about something?”

“Oh, uh sure,” Dan said, quickly grabbing his phone and turning it off speaker. He didn’t think there was anyone in the hospital’s dressing room with him, but he didn’t want to risk someone overhearing Eddie talking about his symbiote. “Did you want to talk over the phone, or do you want me to come over? I can get to you in about thirty minutes, if it’s urgent.”

“It’s not… urgent,” Eddie said tentatively, “but if you don’t mind, talking about it tonight would be good?”

“Sure, no problem. Send me your new address and I’ll be over soon.”

“Great, that’s great, I’ll see you later,” Eddie said, sounding distracted, in all likelihood by the alien voice in his head. Dan stared at his phone after he hung up, wondering what Eddie wanted to talk about, and what could be important enough for him to call _Dan_ about it. He was a decent guy, sure, but Dan couldn’t imagine that he was eager to associate with his ex-fiance’s new boyfriend. Anne and Eddie had gotten coffee a few times since everything had gone down, and Anne had told Dan just this past week that he absolutely had the symbiote still attached to him, but that he seemed to be _happy_. Healthy. Dan wasn’t entirely sure how you could be happy when you were sharing your body with an alien parasite, but he was starting to have an inkling.

-

It was quiet when Dan got to Eddie’s new apartment. There was no screaming, no sounds of fighting or pain or otherworldly voices. Just a quiet, peaceful building, which settled his mind a little. Until he raised his hand to knock on Eddie’s door, and heard a quiet moan from inside. It wasn’t a shout or yelp that would suggest that he was in a great deal of pain or immediate danger, but a low, continuous thing that nonetheless unsettled Dan. Pain was pain, and any amount of it when it came to Eddie and his symbiote could mean something bad. So Dan tested the door – found it open – and slowly, carefully, pushed it open a crack.

Seeing nothing yet, he pushed the door open a little more, sliding inside just enough that he could quickly back out again if need be. Dan trusted Eddie, but he could still remember the aching bruises they had left on his neck, and he wasn’t keen to repeat that. Dan could hear the moan again, definitely Eddie, and he took a quick step forward so that the room came into view, and when it did, Dan could barely smother his shocked yelp at the sight.

At first glance, it looked like Eddie was being attacked.

Like he was being smothered, or drowned in that thick black liquid. But in the thirty seconds it took his mind to adjust to what he was seeing, Dan realized that he wasn’t being attacked, not at all. Venom didn’t attack like this anyway – Dan knew both from experience and from what he’d been told, that Venom preferred a quicker, more violent approach. Not that this wasn’t violent. Because it _was_ , whatever was happening between them. The intertwined mass of them both, the dissolution of the lines that separated one physical thing from another so much more apparent here, when Dan could see the way the symbiote’s form would become solid and gripping in one moment, and then a viscous liquid absorbing and being absorbed by Eddie’s own body in the next.

It should have been horrific. It should have been disgusting, an abhorrence the like of which humanity only talked about in stories designed to scare, to warn away from the things that they didn’t understand. But it just – _wasn’t_. Maybe it was that he was a doctor, used to seeing the terrible and beautiful ways human bodies could destroy and create and adapt, or maybe it was that he’d seen the worst of this; he had seen the destruction that the symbiote had lain upon Eddie’s body, and then, later, the way it had fixed him. The way it had curled itself around every inch of him, bones and muscles and organs and brain, and pressed its healing tendrils into the very heart of him, fixing what it had done to Eddie and more.

Perhaps it was just that Dan had some hidden depths that he had never realized.

Whatever it was, when Dan’s eyesight adjusted to dim light of the room, and his mind to what it was he was seeing, it wasn’t _disgust_ that he felt. He saw the semi-solid face of Venom pressed up close against Eddie’s own, a rumbling sound emanating from within the rolling mass of him, something inexplicably joyous about it. He saw what could only be described as _tentacles_ , the varying sizes of them exploring every visible part of Eddie’s skin – because a lot of it was visible, now that Dan was really looking. Eddie was clearly naked, and Dan could catch glimpses of his body, sweaty and muscled and tan, appearing in between the black of the symbiote.

He could see the places where the symbiote was solid and gripping him with what looked like a bruising intensity; he could see the places where it was soft and stroking, and still others where it slipped like a thick oil over his skin, slow as molasses, dripping and squeezing and worming its way into every crevice, every hole it could find. _Disgusting_ , Dan thought, _this should be disgusting._ But it wasn’t, it wasn't. There was something in the joining, something about the drifting dust motes in the waning light above them, something about the low engine rumble of content, about Eddie’s answering moans and whimpers and helpless arousal, the way his body seemed to move without his control – _not controlled by Venom either,_ Dan thought, like it was overwhelming both of them to have each other like this.

There was something about it all put together, the coalescing image of all these separate parts, that sent a shiver of interest up Dan’s spine and a gradual heat pooling low down inside him, and so he didn’t think about it consciously, made no real decision to stay, only found that he couldn’t possibly move if he wanted to, his body rooted to the spot. He watched, fascinated, as the thick press of the symbiote’s tongue forced Eddie’s mouth open wide, stretching and pushing the inside of his cheeks, and when Eddie tilted his head toward the light _just_ right – Dan could see the flicker of it inside his throat too, an alien simulation of deepthroating, something that Eddie seemed to be both experienced and _good_ at.

This wasn’t knew, Dan realized quickly. This wasn’t the first, or even the tenth time they’d done this. That familiarity, that knowing; it could have been down to the symbiote being inside Eddie’s head, inside his body, but he didn’t think so. Dan watched as two – no, three tendrils pressed ever inward between Eddie’s thighs, shivering and writhing and stretching his hole in tandem, stroking at his rim, prodding at the sensitive spot behind his balls; others were squeezing and rolling them in time with the disembodied hand that was jacking his dick, a huge, thick fingered thing. It looked strong. Dangerous.

Dan resisted the urge to adjust himself, wondering if perhaps that was part of the appeal. Another hand was dragging the tips of its clawed fingers down Eddie’s chest, catching lightly on his nipples and causing him to gasp, to arch, to beg for more. Dan couldn’t help but want, right along with him. He wanted to see the way Eddie was being taken apart by Venom – because, more now than ever, Dan realized how much the symbiote wasn’t just a parasite. It wasn’t just this thing hitching a ride on Eddie’s body, but a singularity, an individual with a personality just like any of them. And Venom was clearly getting along very well with its host.

Dan watched for a little longer, just until Eddie’s entire body tightened up as he came, his toes and his fingers and his entire body curling up tight and releasing, all at once. Venom’s physical form shook and imploded in that moment, disappearing almost entirely within Eddie’s skin before bursting free again and wrapping Eddie up in what could only be called an embrace. Dan listened to Eddie’s breathing slow, and he listened to the steady contented rumbles that Venom still hadn’t ceased making, and he listened to Eddie say _thank you_ and _that was so good sweetheart_ and _I love you_ , and then Dan realized, all at once, what this was between them. As shocking as it was inexplicably _right_.

 _I shouldn’t be here for this_ , he thought. This part wasn’t for him.

Dan backed out of the flat quickly, as quietly as possible, closing the door behind him and taking three very long, very deep breaths, willing himself calm.

And then he knocked on the door.

*

As it turned out, Eddie had just wanted to ask Dan if he would be his doctor. He’d been sweaty and flushed and indisputably sex-mussed when he opened the door dressed in black shorts that were, upon deeper inspection, literally made out of Venom. Dan didn’t say anything about it, didn’t mention the stink of sex in their apartment or the lazy sprawl of Eddie’s body across his couch. He didn’t mention the creeping tendrils that gently stroked and curled around his body, nudging under his chin and against the incongruously delicate skin at his wrists – both of which were dotted with already fading pinpricks. _Bite marks_ , identifiable only to those who knew the terrifying shape of Venom’s jaw, it’s layered teeth, every one of them a threat.

Dan had attempted a little desperately to think of things that would prevent his insistent arousal making itself known, but it was difficult when the thing turning you on was arguably one of the least sexy things you should be able to think of. Should, key word. Because somewhere between stumbling across Eddie and Venom fucking and that moment, right then, sat on a couch that had less than ten minutes before held the slick mass of them both, Dan had discovered some unfortunate things about himself.

So much for normal.

*

So. They talked a little. Eddie said _you got here quick_ and Dan laughed, and Dan said _sure I’ll be your doctor_ and Eddie laughed, laughed at nothing, said nothing, smiled beatifically and nodded, and later, when Dan said goodbye, a single tendril snapped out to press against his palm in the imitation of a handshake – a thank you. Dan had startled, yanking his hand backward, and tried to act normal as he said goodbye, but Eddie’s half-grin when he did, the lazy intensity of his gaze, lingered with Dan afterwards, an expression Dan couldn’t quite figure out.

At least, not until he saw Anne that night. They drank wine and he told her about seeing Eddie, and then they drank a little more and they fell into bed together, kissing desperately, ending up with him underneath her, held tight between her strong thighs. Her underwear was already damp by the time she hitched her skirt up and pressed up against his dick, teasing him with slow, lazy rolls of her hips. Dan stayed still, aching for it but knowing by now that if this was how the night was going to go, he was expected to keep still right now. She carried on rocking, the lace of her underwear catching on already too-sensitive skin, watching him intently.

“Is there something else you wanted to tell me?” she asked.

Dan thought about not telling her. He thought about keeping it to himself, hiding away this dirty little secret, but then he thought about it some more. Thought about Anne, the strength of her, the easy way she spoke about her time bonded with Venom now, the interest in her voice when he told her he’d be seeing more of Eddie. He thought about it all, and then he said: “Yes,” caught up on a moan, drawn out as she rolled her hips again.

He said, “I saw them–” and he said, “they were–” and then, when he looked up at her face and saw that same expression he’d seen on Eddie’s earlier, an almost captivating mirror image, he said: “ _Oh.”_

Because it was _knowing_. It was the smug tilt at the corner of a mouth, the light flush, high on the cheeks. It was Anne, knowing exactly what Dan was going to tell her: because she’d seen it herself, she’d been there, experienced that, felt the draw of it and the enticing idea of it, knew Eddie too well and Dan just well enough to see right through to the heart of it. Yes Eddie had _that_ , was doing _that_ , but here, right now, Dan needed _this_. The shameful arousal that Anne so loved to induce in him, tease out of him, make him tell her all the things he wished he didn’t want and then let her repeat it back to him in just the right way to make him pant for it, cry for it.

This was just – a new variation. A surprising twist.

It was Anne, knowing exactly what he needed. And it was Eddie, having known exactly what he _wanted_ , before he did himself. And it was the both of them, giving it to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A point to ex-college roommate Robert, because even this new development, this newly found interest in polyamorous xenophilia, not to mention the tentacle stuff – Dan would like to thank the 21st century for both google and private web browsers – wasn’t his idea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided that I needed to explore the inevitable conclusion of this story, so. Foursome fic, here we go. This chapter is build up - but as you can see there'll be another chapter, and the good stuff will be coming soon.

Their sex life generally went like this: Anne said _what if_  or _how about_ or _do you want,_ and Dan dutifully replied _no, maybe, yes god please._ It had worked for them up till now, so when Anne tipped over onto her back beside him on their bed, pink with exertion and satisfaction, and said, “so, do you want that?” Well, Dan didn’t say _no._

This particular sex thing took some planning though. They all had jobs with irregular hours, to start, and even after they managed to pencil _foursome_ into their respective calendars, they had to twice reschedule – once because Dan was called in for an emergency consultation, and once because Eddie had been tipped off about something job related. Dan didn’t know if that thing had involved head eating or not, but he _did_ know that it was remarkably easy to forget about having morals when said head-eater had agreed to fuck you and your fiancé.

Honestly, Dan was a little embarrassed by the schoolgirl-thrill that zipped through him at the idea of how strange this all was, how abnormal. _If only you could see me now_ , Dan thought, remembering his college roommate and the handful of girlfriends that had bemoaned how boring he was over the years. Just because he didn’t fancy trying acid before his first midterm didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun or be wild, thank you _Robert_. Although the fact that he thought about these things at all probably said something about his inclination towards the strange things in life, that was; not particularly or often. The things that he and Anne did together were probably the closest Dan ever got to ‘wild’, and even then he was the passive subject in that particular act, subversive mostly _because_ of the passivity.

Dan wasn’t even the harbinger of his own rebellion against normality, and wasn’t _that_ just typical. A point to ex-college roommate Robert, because even this newly found interest in polyamorous xenophilia, not to mention the _tentacle_ stuff – Dan would like to thank the 21 st century for both google and private web browsers – weren’t a discovery he made himself. Not that Dan was being dragged into it kicking and screaming or anything. He was tentatively, completely, one hundred percent on board with whatever the hell was going to happen the next time they were all in a room together.

So maybe that was all that mattered, that he was into this at all. Point back in his court, then, for learning the definition of the word hentai in his thirties. He couldn’t say that this whole thing was _completely_ out of the blue, since he could definitely recall being a teenager and spending one summer furtively jerking off to the film _Men in Black_ over and over – he’d be lying if he said it was only because of Linda Fiorentino, hot as she was. But repressed interests in alien fucking aside, even the idea of having sex with more than one person at once was unexplored territory for Dan, strictly a one person kind of guy thus far, let alone a two-people-and-an-alien person.

It was nerve-wracking. It was enough to have him a little distracted in the last hour of his shift the afternoon before he and Anne were having Eddie over for dinner and the proverbial dessert. He wasn’t _worried_ about it. And he wasn’t, as Anne suggested, sort of maybe a little relieved to find out that their planned foursome was a little less of a collaborative improv class and more of a ‘front row seats to a one-man show’.

Dan swallowed back the last of the wine he’d been drinking as he set about preparing their dinner, grimacing a little as he did. He generally favored the Cabernet, but Anne had insisted a Pinot Gris would work better with the fish. “Are you still against opening the Cabernet?”

“Maybe after dinner,” Anne said, pouring him another overfull glass, the only indicator that she might also be nervous, “this one would taste better if you weren’t gulping it down, hon.”

Dan hummed, taking the proffered glass and letting her press up against his back for a moment, warm hands on his hips. The marinade would keep for a second. He turned around in her arms so that he could face her, taking in the dusting of pink on her cheeks, the light frizz of her hair from the humidity of the kitchen.

“You’re amazing,” he said, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss against her lips. “Have I told you that?”

Anne kissed him again, smiling against his mouth. “Mmm, maybe once or twice. You can tell me again though.”

“You’re amazing,” Dan repeated. Then, because he couldn’t help it: “thank you, by the way. For all – this.”

“No need to thank me, this is as much for me as it is for you,” she said, laughing, but then turned serious. “You still want this?”

There was no question. “ _Yes_ ,” Dan said, “although maybe you’re right about starting out on easy mode, going zero to sixty on the alien sex party might have been biting off a little more than we can chew.”

“Oh that was Eddie’s idea, actually. He also made a joke about boss levels in video games, which I think says something unfortunate about my taste in men.”

Dan laughed, sloshing his wine a little. “Honestly, at this point, I think there are worse overlaps in our interests.”

“Debateable,” Anne said, pulling back from him and reaching for her wine, “but I guess we’ll see.”

*

Eddie bustled into their apartment that evening the same way he had Dan’s life: disheveled, sweaty, and talking to himself. Dan had approximately the same reaction he always did, which was to say, a gentle thrill of excitement, with the no-longer-ignored undertone of attraction and arousal. Why even try, when confronted with the inexplicable reality of Eddie Brock, to pretend that you weren’t drawn to him like E coli was to a plate of 98 degree reheated chili.

Dan managed to get out a somewhat casual, “hey, Eddie. Hey, Venom,” before turning back to the stove, half-listening as Eddie said his hellos, hugged Anne and turned down the wine she offered him. He didn’t really have anything to do since the vegetables were steaming and the fish was already in the oven, though, so he took a gulp of his wine for courage and turned back to face them – just in time to see Eddie stripping off his shirt. In all honesty the sight of his bare chest took precedent over the confusion as to why he was doing it; clearly so much more healthy than the only other time Dan had seen him without clothes, back in the hospital when he’d been sedated. He was thick with muscle, but not at all lean - well fed, obviously, and somehow getting enough sun in between his job and vague vigilante business to be gently tan.

Dan thought about the bare glimpses of him he'd seen beneath Venom when he'd walked in on them - his chest mostly hidden, and Dan mostly distracted by his mouth and the lower half besides - the ripple of his stomach as he moved, the way he could arch his back in a perfect comma curve when he came, deceptively flexible. Dan eyed the ink across his skin helplessly, the hard line of his chest, the enticing stretch of his arms above his head and the patch of hair in between. He was thankful that they weren't focusing on him right now, because he could feel the tips of his ears start to redden, the entirety of his face flushing hot.

“Jesus Eddie,” Anne was saying, clearly inoculated to the sight in a way that Dan certainly wasn’t, “I suppose we’ll just leave the money on the side table, huh?”

“Huh?” Eddie grunted, muffled as he pulled the shirt over his head. Dan took another sip of his wine, wondering how many sizes too big Eddie must buy his shirts if they managed to swamp a body that looked like _that_ underneath.

“I thought that maybe we’d have dinner first? Some wine, talk a bit – you know, normal human things,” Anne said, a little exasperated.

“Oh, oops, uh – ” Eddie twitched as if he was going to lean down to grab the shirt he’d just dropped to the floor, but a single black tendril appeared from the general vicinity of his thigh and shot out to snatch it up before he had to. Dan shivered a little, thinking about the last time he’d seen those tentacles, what they had been doing. _Jesus_. He gulped down the rest of his wine, staring contemplatively at the already half empty bottle on the counter. The faster he got through this bottle, the faster he’d get to the Cabernet. Not to mention the added benefit of being able to survive the evening if he was at least somewhat drunk.

“I know you never liked foreplay, but for some people – ”

“ _Woah_ , okay,” Dan said, stepping forward with a placating hand out. Even if Anne didn’t _sound_ annoyed, he was a little concerned that Eddie might not see that, but he was beaten to the punch by Venom, forming itself a face so that it could speak:  **Eddie likes foreplay, but there isn’t any need for pleasantries with us.**

Dan marveled at the way Venom could somehow convey smugness through very little available facial expressions. Eddie rolled his eyes, swatting half-heartedly at the tendrils that were slipping possessively, a little proudly, around his shoulders.

Anne laughed indulgently. “Well us humans like the wait, so we're going to have dinner first, okay? We stocked up on chocolates, so you don’t have to bore yourself too much with our petty human pleasantries.”

“ _Oh_ , yeah – sorry, I’ll just –” Eddie said, tugging his shirt back on. Venom disappeared momentarily as he did so, reappearing at his shoulder so that it could nuzzle it’s face affectionately against Eddie’s neck. **Nothing Eddie ever does could bore me.** The responding expression on Eddie's face suggested that whatever reply he gave was in the privacy of their own brain.

“Gross,” Anne said, turning to top up her own wine glass. She eyed the empty one in Dan’s hand with her eyebrows raised but refilled it for him without a word. It wasn’t like _his_ sexual prowess would be on show tonight. Eddie, no longer shirtless, followed her into the kitchen proper and leaned against the island they had in the middle of the room.

"Sorry about that," he said sheepishly. Little black tendrils peeked out of one of his sleeves and started worming their way across the counter towards one of the chocolate boxes they had already opened earlier. Dan wondered if Eddie even noticed.

“So how are things going with your job?” Anne asked, perching on a stool, “you said you had another interview with Cassidy lined up?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you need a bed?” Eddie asked innocently, sounding for all the world like he could be discussing the benefits of the BJÖRKSNÄS versus the TARVA Ikea bed frame, a strange contrast to the disheveled sprawl of him, the tentacles that were now pulling and tugging at his clothes, slipping beneath the collar of his shirt, up his pant leg.

As much as Anne liked to pretend otherwise, she was kind of a horny drunk. It was surprising if you didn’t really know her, and she generally kept it pretty under wraps, but some of the best sex they’d ever had was after a few glasses of wine, and Dan didn’t think that was because of him. If they were in a bar, if they were with literally anyone other than the person they were with right now, the only way Dan could tell was in the shifting body tension, the barest tilt of her head toward a conversation that broached sex, the drifting of her gaze towards his shirt collar, his wrists, as the night went on.

Tonight though, Dan could see how relaxed she was around Eddie, and how easily that comfort came to her as they all loosened up. For her and Eddie, it was only a matter of re-learning each other, taking what they already knew and adapting it, adding to it. They could skip the awkward parts. For Dan though, Eddie and Venom were a new thing, an entire sparkling world that he had yet to explore, and there was something profoundly hot about the fact. Still though, the ease that came with being with someone long-term, with learning their body, with learning how they moved and what they liked – that was a different kind of delicious, and the simmering combination of the two was something Dan wasn’t quite sure he was going to survive. Anne and Eddie knew each other in ways that Dan didn’t yet understand, and Venom and Eddie did so in a way that he wasn’t sure he ever would, and it was all Dan could do to keep abreast of the conversation as the evening – and his levels of intoxication, both alcohol related and otherwise – progressed. He deserved an award honestly, for not yet disappearing into the bathroom to frantically jerk off. Anne had said humans liked the wait, but she knew for a fact that she was the only one here that relished in it. 

She was loose limbed on the sofa next to him, her feet propped up in his lap where she could dig her toes insistently into his inner thigh, inching a little higher every time he shifted forward to lift his wine glass off the coffee table for another drink. They had cracked open the Cabernet a while ago, and even without Eddie’s help they were nearing the end of the bottle, which Dan thought was probably a good stopping point. He was at the stage where everything had become hazy and warm and liquid, and as he watched Eddie stretched out across the sofa opposite them, slipping a little lower against the cushions, his shirt getting caught around his waist and revealing a strip of skin that was no less enticing a sight the second time around – Dan thought that maybe now was the time to prompt things toward the bedroom.

“So Venom can just – make you –” Anne was saying when Dan tuned back into the conversation, her smile half-hidden behind her glass.

“Mmm, yeah,” Eddie hummed, plush lips curving into a satisfied grin, “don’t know how exactly he does it, but if I want it, he can make me feel drunk – high, too. Whatever.” Now that he’d said it, Dan really noticed how obviously not sober Eddie was; the benefit of seeing Eddie in the privacy of their apartment was being able to witness the marvel of his and Venom’s combined existence when they weren’t worried about being caught, and the laxness of his body now, the way Venom curled itself around Eddie in endless dizzying waves,  not necessarily the full anthropomorphic body, not even the sort of adorable little flubber-shaped manifestation either - but the ever-moving tendrils, the blanketing liquid, the huge, meaty hand that was clasped between Eddie’s own, thick fingers ending in these strange delicate points – it was the picture of intoxication.  

“Should we move to the – uh – ”

“Do you need a bed?” Eddie asked innocently, sounding for all the world like he could be discussing the benefits of the BJÖRKSNÄS versus the TARVA Ikea bed frame, a strange contrast to the disheveled sprawl of him, the tentacles that were now pulling and tugging at his clothes, slipping beneath the collar of his shirt, up his pant leg. Dan looked over at Anne, and she shrugged, her mouth curved in an anticipatory grin that was going to haunt him for _days_. He watched Anne drag her hand up and down her thigh, stroking over the denim in a way that made Dan twitch – distracted enough that he didn’t catch Eddie stripping out of his clothes until he heard the sound of a belt hitting the floor.

When he turned back, it was to see Eddie stripped bare, every Michelangelo-inspired inch of him on show as he shuffled back against the arm of the sofa, no longer focused on Anne or Dan but on the steadily pooling darkness on his sternum. It dripped and it stretched and it pulled itself from beneath Eddie’s skin, pushing exploratory tendrils up over his neck and only hesitating for the barest moment before dipping into the inviting warmth of his mouth, past his opening lips and bulging out his cheeks obscenely for a moment as Eddie closed his eyes and went lax against it. He moaned desperately, helplessly, swallowing repetitively as the full face of Venom took shape and the tendrils thinned out to accommodate the thick wet tongue that joined them.

It wasn’t like any kiss Dan had ever seen before, nor was it recognizable as foreplay – this was an act in itself, a demonstration of comfort and skill that made Dan think a little hysterically of talent shows, of a panel of judges with serious faces watching this happen. _Ten out of ten_ he thought, _a clear demonstration of dedication to the subject._ Dan could feel Anne’s toes curling against his thigh, and when he looked at her she was staring at Eddie and Venom with her eyes wide, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Dan knew how she felt.

It was no less surreal to see for a second time, and this much closer Dan could see the details of their kiss; how Venom’s teeth could disappear at times, allowing it to get it’s tongue that much deeper; the glistening sheen of spit and whatever it was that came from Venom’s mouth that smeared over Eddie’s chin, that stretched in strings between them whenever they broke apart. It wasn’t a kiss that Dan could imagine enjoying himself, if it could be called a kiss – this was more reminiscent of a gagging in reality, or a blow job, the way Eddie’s lips had to stretch to accommodate the size of its tongue, head tilted up to open his throat, pinned in place against the arm of the sofa.

When Dan managed to drag his eyes away from the kiss he could see the way Venom had wrapped itself around Eddie’s body, endless looping tendrils holding his arms against his sides – one huge hand still clasped between Eddie’s own – and then arranged his legs so that one was stretched out in front of him across the sofa cushions, the other hooked up over the back of it. It was beautiful in the abstract. Eddie giving himself over so thoroughly to his other half, trusting that he would be taken care of, never pushed too hard or fast, but given exactly what he needed – but in the physical sense too – Eddie was the epitome of masculinity by the most common definition of the word, and seeing all of _that –_

Seeing the thick muscles of his shoulders and his thighs, the way they flexed as he arched and twisted and squirmed beneath Venom’s ministrations; seeing the perfect line of his jaw, a little scruffy with stubble, tensing and stretching to accommodate Venom’s tongue, the wet probing mass of it. He was as much the picture of masculinity as he was the image of easy submission, complimentary where they should be dichotomous: like the triptych he’d seen in a gallery once, the swirling mass of pinks and blacks only taking shape and revealing their subjects, their meaning, once he stopped looking for it.

Here – now, listening to the choked moans Eddie made and watching Venom’s viscous drool slip from the corner of his mouth, trickle its way down his neck and settle in a pool at his clavicle, watching the loops of darkness wind tighter around his biceps and trail down, down over his hardened nipples and the gentle slope of his abdomen, down around his thighs – pushed further, pulled higher for better access – and around the slick head of his dick, the attention there only perfunctory for now, because the tendrils were after a different target, twisting and entwining themselves like they were when Dan had seen them before – Eddie’s very own caduceus, sentient and hungry and _greatly_ misused – Dan knew that the meaning, how _meaningful_ the act was could only become clear when you stopped _trying_ to understand it. When you stopped trying to pick apart the _how’s_ and the _why’s_ and let yourself just _see_ , let yourself be the voyeur in that final triptych image, the blurry figure that watched and was watched in turn, _that_ was when things came into focus.

They were like an art house horror: his college roommate used to drag Dan to a dinky little one-screen theater not far from their dorms and force him to watch whatever obscure scary movie they were playing that night. Robert had liked the blood and viscera, loved the revenge story-lines and the vindicated torture sessions, but Dan had always preferred the oddness of the independent movies with their slow, subtle descent into terrifying strangeness. Jump scares and needless gore had always made Dan turn his face away, but when he was taken slowly towards the end point – nudged with a gentle hand towards a horror that he barely understood, he would watch with rapt attention until the very end.

Breathless, full of adrenaline, not certain if he was scared or intrigued: that was how Dan felt now, witnessing this. The only difference was that as Dan shifted towards the edge of his seat, one hand gripping Anne’s ankle and the other curled into a fist at his thigh, it wasn’t because of fear. It wasn’t in anticipation of a jump scare, but rather a want, a _need_ to touch. A single-minded obsession with the idea of pushing off the sofa and walking – no, crawling the few feet it would take to reach Eddie and Venom, lifting one hand up to Eddie’s thigh and spreading his fingers over the muscle there, feeling the fine layers of hair that became sparser the further up Dan trailed his fingers, curving his hand around to join the roiling tendrils that slid between Eddie’s ass cheeks and pushed with shocking ease inside him – meaning that Eddie had prepared himself before coming over, or Venom could change his physiology to do it for him.

Dan wasn’t sure which thought was hotter, but the need to go, to touch, to join in was becoming unbearable. Just when he thought he couldn’t last any longer, when the ache of his dick was just shy of painful and his fingertips felt numb with need, Anne abruptly lifted her feet from his lap, kicking him hard in the thigh.

“Go on,” she said breathlessly, and when Dan turned to her, she had her hand slipped beneath the waistband of her pants, her mouth red and bitten, hair a disheveled mess around her shoulders. A slight sheen of sweat was gathering at her temples and above her upper lip. She looked beautiful, and Dan wanted to kiss her, but when he leaned forward she kicked him again. “Go _on_. I want to watch.”

“Wh– I thought – ” Dan said, struggling to form a coherent thought, let alone a full sentence. Across the room, Eddie moaned loudly as the lewd sound of Venom fucking into him – mouth or ass, Dan wasn’t sure – came harder, faster.

Anne smiled at him lazily. “Only if it had been too much. Me and Eddie talked. If you want to – well, so do they,” she said, tilting her head toward them. Dan looked over for confirmation, and while Venom didn’t stop it's endless exploration of Eddie’s body, it did slide it's tongue from Eddie’s mouth, inclining it's head towards him.

**Eddie sometimes imagines your hands inside him when we do this. You should – help. Us.**

For his part, Eddie tilted his head against the arm of the sofa so that he could face them, a lazy sort of smile on his face even as he never stilled, toes curling and hips twitching with the rolling movement of Venom around him. When he spoke, his voice was rough and scratchy.

“Mmm, no pressure, but if you want it, we do too.”

Dan stared at them for moment, trying to take stock of his body and his mind and his dick and what exactly it was that he wanted. If he could even do this. In the end it didn't take long for him to come to the conclusion that ultimately, when it all came down to it, both body and mind were in agreement on the fact that there was only thing that he was ever going to do in response to that offering.

And so Dan nodded his head, and he stroked one hand up Anne’s calf in thanks, in recognition, and then he slid off the sofa and to his knees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, this is going to be 4 chapters rather than 3 - this was getting to a length where I felt like I wanted to split it, and also this felt like a good stop point, so. Hope you enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But it wasn’t the sensation so much as the powerlessness that turned Dan on anyway – he wasn’t sure that the kissing was his favorite part of the night, certainly didn’t get off on it the way that Eddie clearly did, but the lingering feeling of danger, the knowledge of all those teeth so close to his face, and the promise that Venom’s tongue could go deeper, that it could choke him, could hold him in place and do whatever it wanted – _that_ was what did it for Dan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient with me over the holiday period kids! I hope this last chapter is worth the wait.
> 
> I was meant to link to it in the previous chapter but forgot, so [here](https://fadmagazine.com/2016/05/22/francis-bacon-invisible-rooms-maria-lassnig-review-embarrassment-riches/) is the triptych painting Dan was thinking of in the last chapter. “An opera of gaping mouths and writhing figures”, what a perfect line.
> 
> I was also listening to Tom Wait’s ‘Underground’ while writing, if you want a tonally weird soundtrack, and FJM’s ‘when you’re smiling and astride me’, for one that fits. Enjoy.

Crawling towards the promise of sex was no longer a novelty for Dan, not with how often he’d done it for Anne – got on his hands and knees and offered his body, his submission to her for as long as she wanted it – but there was still that thrill that came with doing something like this, the niggling at the back of his mind about what people would think, what they would say if they saw him and what he would do for her. In reality the idea was mortifying, but within the privacy of their own apartment he could allow himself to find a strange excitement at the idea, the way the shame would twist upon itself and become something else, something that settled at the base of his stomach and in the center of his chest.

So it wasn’t unfamiliar, the way he felt as he crawled those few feet towards Eddie and Venom. It wasn’t unfamiliar, that he could feel his dick getting fully hard, no physical touch needed, probably causing a spreading wet patch in his boxers. It wasn’t unfamiliar, to reach his target, and to fall back on his haunches, waiting, waiting. He could hear Anne make a please sound in her throat behind them, a whispered _good boy_ that made him shiver.

Eddie wasn’t even watching Dan really, too focused on Venom’s touch to really pay attention to much else, but Venom, though – Venom was paying attention. It had what could be interpreted as a torso right now, but the formation was never quite solid, not like its face, not like the thick arms that it manifested and the tendrils that wrapped around Eddie – with every twitch of Eddie’s hips and every thrust of Venom inside him, with each moan and every rolling arch of his body, Venom would split and crack and flex before coming back together again, like Eddie’s pleasure was a direct line to its own. A shared thing, crackling between them, passed back and forth.

The torso fully dissipated when Dan settled in next to them, the tendrils winding and twisting their way around Eddie’s thigh and down the calf that was lax against the couch cushions, closest to him. One arm was still clasped with Eddie’s own where it was raised over his head and pressed against the arm of the couch, but another arm, just as huge and intimidating as the latter, had formed now from the darkness at his thigh. Dan laughed at first, when it made an imitation of the universal ‘come hither’ gesture, one finger beckoning him; but when the hand relaxed again, palm out and waiting, Dan could feel the rising heat in his face, the urge to readjust himself in his jeans becoming almost unbearable.

He only hesitated for a second before reaching out his own hand, gasping as Venom’s palm wrapped around his own, surprisingly warm, but as thick and as solid as he had imagined, the delicately pointed ends of his fingertips pressing just shy of painful into the meat of his thumb, his wrist. Dan spared a thought for the image of those little dots that he’d thought were bite marks on Eddie’s wrists when he’d seen them together the first time – while the marks around his collar bone and inner thighs were bigger and almost certainly made by Venom’s teeth, the little ones at his wrists, his waist, the backs of his thighs must have been made by Venom’s grip on him. And now Dan might have his own pinprick marks, a calling-card to no one but the people in this room – a neon sign, perpetually unlit.

The grip tightened, just a fraction shy of too painful, and then released again, its physical form falling apart in favor of the probing tendrils that slid between his fingers and around his wrist, trailing higher, flowing up his arm in an imitation of a caress and tugging at his shirt with something like impatience. Dan decided to help out a little, reaching to undo the buttons with his free hand, only for Venom to flick a dismissive tendril at his fumbling fingers and do it for him. His shirt was pulled from his shoulders and left where it fell, and then Venom was back on him, curving around his shoulders and over his chest, brushing over his nipples until they hardened and then doing it some more, pinching and kneading until he couldn’t help but press into it, mouth falling open as the rising pleasure rolled through him.

Behind him, Anne sighed heavily – probably her first orgasm of the night, since she came quickest when using her hand on herself – and then he could hear her shuffling around, getting comfortable in the space that he had vacated.

“He’s always loved that,” she murmured, fond. The tendrils squeezed a little harder, eager, making Dan’s toes curl and twitch. He closed his eyes for a moment, helpless against the feeling.

 **Which one?** Came Venom’s voice, closer than Dan expected, and when he opened his eyes it was watching him, not a foot away, grinning at Anne’s low chuckle in response, or perhaps at Eddie’s long drawn out whine behind it, squirming as the darkness coalesced over his chest, squeezing and rubbing in rhythm with the slow thrusts into him. It had to be maddening, but Eddie took it well. Was clearly loving it, the drawn out pleasure that would begin to border on pain. Who needed foreplay when the act could last forever anyway?

Dan could feel himself blushing as he watched, blushing as Venom watched him in turn, the slow tilt of its head and the lazy roll of its tongue as it came to some kind of decision just as Eddie started to let out a mantra of _yes yes do it go on yes god –_ in response to a privately asked question, Dan thought. But then Venom was pressing forward, slow and careful and giving Dan time to back out, but ultimately when Dan didn’t move away, didn’t back out, only let his mouth fall open a little in anticipation, Venom moved in to kiss him, and then Dan wasn’t thinking at all.

It was – wet. The following night, when Anne straddled his hips and told him to tell her how it felt, he said it was like sucking dick, a little, but also not. It was like sucking dick if the dick was huge, prehensile, and rougher than expected. It was like having an eel pushing into his mouth, which was a disgusting thought but nonetheless the closest comparison that he could make without censoring the alien nature of the entire thing, which Anne wouldn’t have wanted anyway.

But it wasn’t the sensation so much as the powerlessness that turned Dan on anyway – he wasn’t sure that the kissing was his _favorite_ part of the night, certainly didn’t get off on it the way that Eddie clearly did, but the lingering feeling of danger, the knowledge of all those teeth so close to his face, and the promise that Venom’s tongue could go deeper, that it could choke him, could hold him in place and do whatever it wanted – _that_ was what did it for Dan. That was the part that got his hips twitching helplessly, had him shuddering and whining and choking on the noises that he couldn’t quite make with Venom’s tongue bearing down on him. Within him.

Anne knew that, though, without him having to tell her. So she said _good_ and _thank you for telling me_ and then, after kissing her way down his chest and sucking a tender mark on his inner thigh to match the others that Venom had left behind - right before taking him into her mouth, she said, “tell me what happened next.”

What happened next was mostly a haze. The dream-like memories that came with really good sex, in jumps and starts and shaky breaths between one blink and the next. The feeling of _wet_ , of fullness, Venom’s tongue pushing him to his limits but never further (not like it did with Eddie: Dan knew there were no flickers of movement seen within his throat) before retreating, along with the grip that he hadn’t even realized was on his waist, felt only in its absence – the tiny stinging pin-pricks, _three, four, five_ of them bursting to life as Venom extricated itself. Dan licked his lips, panting a little as Venom removed itself from all but the very tips of his fingers, the very last tendrils tugging with a strength that shouldn’t be surprising, pulling him toward Eddie and the sofa. When he turned his head to look back at Anne for a moment, she was reclined on her own sofa, pants tugged down low around her hips, one hand tucked inside her panties, not really moving again yet. She smiled lazily, a little quirk of the lips that was as warming as it was reassuring. He turned back to Venom, to Eddie.

One blink, the next: being gently nudged and encouraged to straddle Eddie himself, Venom winding and pulsing between them, around them, tying them together so that they couldn’t do much other than try to grind against each other. Dan’s calves where tethered to the outside of Eddie’s thighs, their arms tied together forearm to forearm. He’d been stripped of his jeans at some point, and when he let himself test their bonds (strong, firm, undulating in a way that was strangely arousing) it only pressed them closer together. Chest to chest, faces so close that they were breathing the same air; all it took was another thrust from Venom, pushing back into Eddie after having paused while it got them where it wanted them, and whatever hesitation was gone.

Another blink, another breath: Eddie thrusting upward, the both of them awkwardly trying to gain friction where they could, but not quite able to get the right angle when they were tied together like this. Eddie lifting his chin, saying _come on, come on, give it to me_. The rumble of Venom’s voice behind them urging them on. Finally leaning forward to press a kiss to Eddie’s plush mouth; then another, the third a biting thing, rougher and more urgent as Venom’s thrusts came harder, went deeper. Licking and sucking on Eddie’s tongue, noting how lax he went when Dan took charge, and how clearly he preferred to cede control of the kiss to the other party. Which made sense, of course, considering the two other persons that Dan knew of him kissing.

Not a blink, but the squeezing of his eyes shut and a long, rolling moan: Venom’s fingers biting into the skin at his hips and its _tongue_ , licking across his tailbone and then lower, between his cheeks and against his asshole. He could feel goosebumps breaking out across his arms and the back of his neck, a shiver of arousal bursting forth from his stomach and spreading outward, to his extremities. Toes curled up tight, mouth open, panting. Forgetting for a moment to kiss Eddie back, not remembering until seconds, minutes later, when Venom had licked another stripe from perineum to tailbone and back again, then beginning to press its tongue inward. Probing. Eddie pressed upward eagerly, reminding him to pay attention, drawing back his focus.

“Yeah, _yeah,_ ” Eddie said, his voice throaty and rough, “it feels good right, feels – ah, so – good,” and Dan couldn’t say anything right now, couldn’t respond if he wanted to, but he thought Eddie probably understood. Instead he kissed his way down Eddie’s neck, sucking and biting and generally using him to muffle the noises that threatened to rise out of him, louder and louder the further Venom pressed inside him.

 _Wet_. Slick. Still so strangely warm, not at all cold like Dan had thought when he imagined the feel of Venom; not sticky either, as pliable or as solid as it wanted to be, but more than anything _warm_. A heat that was a little above that of Eddie or Dan, and so the exploratory tongue that stretched and thrust inside him, slick with its alien saliva, felt like burning, a little. Almost painful, but not quite. Almost too much, but never – never that. At some point Venom had rearranged itself around them again, moved and molded their pliable bodies into the position it wanted – Eddie’s thighs, his legs wrapped around Dan’s waist now, and not a scant inch between them. The slick slide of their hips against each other, their dicks wet and so hard that it was bordering on unbearable, but finally _finally_ they could thrust against each other, grind down, up, against whatever bought them relief.

And then Venom’s tongue began to thicken, somehow – later, Dan figured that it had probably bunched up on itself, caterpillar like, snake like, caduceus abusivus, ultimately becoming a thicker, more solid thing – and that, finally, was what tipped him over the edge and into a shuddering orgasm that lasted for an eon, stretching out into eternity.

 

He was glad for Venom’s tight grip when he came back to himself, because he wouldn’t have been able to hold his body up if he tried. Beneath him, Eddie was shivering and twitching through his own orgasm, a dopey sort of grin splitting his lips, eyes closed.

Dan pressed a lingering kiss to his mouth, a little dopey himself and abruptly fond of this strange, incredible man. After a moment he felt Anne’s hand on his shoulder, and then she was kissing him teasingly, giving him only the briefest touch of her tongue, before pulling away. She pressed a quick kiss to Eddie’s forehead too.

“I’ll just go get some water and towels,” she said, and Dan would feel a little guilty for being so distracted from her tonight, but she looked sated and content, and really, Dan knew that the best bit for her would be asking him to relay it all back to her in the privacy of their own bed. As she left, Venom was already releasing them from its grip and retreating back within Eddie’s body, a little uncomfortable as it slid out of him – Eddie likely thinking the same thing if his slight wince was any indication – but leaving them otherwise unscathed. Sort of.

“Good, huh?” Eddie said after a moment, stretching his arms out above him and arching his body like a cat, heedless of Dan, still pressed in close. The too-much sensation of his dick brushing against Eddie’s hipbone was enough to have him finally sitting back, still a little dazed. He nodded absently.

Venom, whose floating face was still outside of Eddie’s body, along with the trailing tendrils between his fingers, nuzzled in close to Eddie’s neck. **I know the very depths of you,** it said without a hint of irony, **it will always be good**.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t be smug,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes, scratching at his stomach and the come (both their come) that was drying there. “Venom’s been watching romcoms, getting a little over-dramatic,” he added, but the tone of his voice belied his words, so clearly fond.

In the interim between that moment and Anne coming back in with towels and water for them, between one blink and the next, Dan let himself bask in the strange normality of their existence, the bizarrely mundane cohabitation of two beings within one body. Dan might have been in shock, just a little, but it felt good to watch them for a bit, curled up on the other end of the sofa, sated and lazy and still buzzing with the aftereffects. Wondering about what else was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's all folks! If you are wondering, yes I did in fact intentionally end on a semi-serious note that still was a euphemism. I thought it was fitting.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always appreciated :)


End file.
